


Speakeasy

by nicayal



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, Crossdressing, Gender non-conformity, M/M, Moonshine, Speakeasies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-18 16:25:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4712591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicayal/pseuds/nicayal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the midst of Roaring 20s Prohibition-era nightlife, there's more than meets the eye when it comes to all manner of social affairs. There's plenty of speakeasy hooch to go around if you know where to look and girls who drop names of the town's wealthiest darbs like dimes to pay their drinks. There are shy boys and sidecars, dancing dolls and jazz instrumentals. So when it comes to one diminutive gal with bouncing blond ringlets and an arch grin in particular, it should come as no surprise that something's a little different, a little special, about her as well.</p><p>AkuRoku one-shot based on the prompt 'speakeasy', written for AkuRokuRiSo Month 2015.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Speakeasy

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt** : Speakeasy  
>  **Pairing** : Axel/Roxas  
>  **Rating** : T  
>  **Word Count** : 2636  
>  **Note** : This is set in the 1920s when the concepts of homosexuality and gender nonconformity were viewed in a very different way than we approach both now. I purposefully chose the pronouns I did with that in mind and was not intentionally trying to be a misgenderific shithead.  
>  **Fan Art** : The amazing Erin ([nijuukoo](http://nijuukoo.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr) made [flapper!Roxas](http://nijuukoo.tumblr.com/post/128280438391/813-month-day-20-dress-word-from-xkittyzo1-i) a thing. Shower her with love. She's amazing.

_speak·eas·yˈ_

_/spēkˌēzē/_

_noun: speakeasy_

_(during Prohibition) an illicit liquor store or nightclub._

It’d been a busy night from a barkeep’s standpoint, albeit a straightforward one. Ultimately, Xion couldn’t complain. This, in turn, meant Saïx wouldn’t either. After last week’s near-miss raid of their illicit establishment, she really couldn’t ask for more.   
  
Generally, Xion never asked for anything at all.

It was others who did the asking, which made sense, given her position within the Organization. From her vantage point mixing assorted spirits she heard everything, kept most to herself under the confidence generally afforded a bartender’s patrons, and divulged just enough to prove her worth, whether or not she felt like a true member rather than a begrudging compromise, a concession on Saïx’s part in a moment of questionable benevolence.

The Bureau of Prohibitions agent had posed a close call, because it’d been Demyx who’d been tailed. He was nice enough, Demyx, good-humored and generally sweet. But, bless his dim-witted heart, he wasn’t the most astute. Xion supposed she owed Zexion for sensing that something about the would-be speakeasy patron’s demeanor hadn’t felt quite right before the establishment’s password had been uttered and blown all their covers clear out of the water. Maybe a free drink. Probably a higher cut of the overall business profits, if she were truly being fair-minded.

What it came down to, in her estimation, was that their group needed more minds like his, careful and calculating, and fewer that trended toward reckless naïveté. Sorry, Demyx.

Glancing toward the band playing on stage, then over to the dance floor, Xion’s gaze fell on a pair moving in rhythm to the sound of lively jazz instrumentals. She watched and couldn’t help but wonder: On a scale of bumbling idiot to down-low expert subtle, the likes of which hadn’t been seen since the arrest of former Organization ringleader Xemnas himself, where did someone like Axel fall?

At least she had a better idea when it came to his flaxen-haired companion.

“I can’t believe this. We came all the way down here and now you’re too shy to dance?”

The voice pierced the nucleus of her swirling thoughts, and Xion glanced over to where it had originated on the far left side of the bar counter.

They sat perched on swiveling bar stools, a young lady and gentleman who, if Xion weren’t shrewd enough to accept that looks meant very little when it came to age estimates, might inch closer toward adolescent girl and boy designations to a casual observer. They were newcomers, clearly green, for Xion never forgot a patron’s face and this was the first time she’d seen either. That meant an already accepted regular had given them the entry password, had whispered out clandestine directions on how to locate the space.

It was all the same to her, as long as they spent money and didn’t endeavor to rat to the federal authorities.

“I’m  _not_ shy. I just don’t feel like it.” The boy pursed his lips, bounced his legs in nervy little jerks underneath his stool. His page-boy hat was arranged over messy brown cowlick-addled tresses and exuded the appearance of perennial youth. Xion assumed it probably wasn't a look he was purposefully aiming for at a place like this and chalked it up to a simple level of fashion obliviousness on his part. 

“I thought we were here to get owled.” Still scowling, he crossed one thin arm over the other across his chest. Rather than give him a look of fortified authority, the stance did the opposite, and Xion couldn’t help but find it reminiscent of an adolescent temper tantrum in a fit of full-throes glory.

Raising a cigarette to lips the same ruby-wine red as her shoulder-length hair, the girl took a drag, then let it out in one prolonged sigh.

“I don’t see why we can’t do both.”

“Fine, okay.” A look of overt uncertainty formed across the boy’s olive features. “But drinks first. I need some kind of an edge before the rest of this.”

Sensing an opportunity for impending profit, Xion approached, moving close enough for them to know she was available and ready for drink mixing but far enough not to appear like she was unnecessarily hovering.

The young woman turned to her a moment later. With a flutter of delicate fingers, she beckoned Xion over, then turned back to her companion whose attention had diverted to the dance floor.

“What's your pleasure?”

When he didn’t immediately reply, the girl reached forward and pinched his ear.

“ _Ow_ , Kai. What’d you go and do that for?”

With a quick roll of her eyes, she directed them back toward Xion, brows raised. “You said you wanted to get owled. The barkeep's here to help you reach that noble goal of yours.”

“Oh.” He looked up at Xion, blue eyes wide, expression still hinting at uncertain, like he didn’t truly believe this joint served alcohol -- or maybe he just wasn't convinced he wouldn't get caught for drinking it in the first place. Hard to say, from Xion's vantage point. “Something with …gin.” His voice rose like he was asking a question. “A bee’s knees, maybe.”

It figured, Xion thought. He seemed the type to prefer something sweet over one of the stronger drinks. With a neutral expression, she nodded, then turned toward the girl he’d called Kai.

“I’ll have a sidecar.”

With a bounce of dark hair following her curt nod, Xion turned and started to prepare the first drink, reaching for syrups that would mask the flavor of the rough hooch, still hawkishly mindful of the conversations taking place around her.

“A sidecar? Way to one-up me.”

For a moment, there was silence. By the time both came back into view in her peripherals as she returned her attention to the counter, a spiraling plume of smoke was drifting a lazy path from Kai’s mouth and up toward the speakeasy’s ceiling.

“Oh, Sora.” Her voice was a husky sigh. “It’s not my fault I prefer a stiffer mix to your doll’s drink.”

Hunching his shoulders the boy’s face flushed a few shades deeper than his natural coloring, and he turned away from the bar counter, eyes traveling back to the dance floor. As Xion finished the first drink and slid it across the counter, she noticed that he was suddenly sitting up a little straighter.

“Speaking of dolls…”

Xion and Kai followed his line of sight in tandem, over to the bobbing throngs of dancers on the floor a few yards away from them.

Just as quickly, Xion looked away, moved to locate the Cognac. She had a pretty good idea about who’d caught Sora’s eye, and it was unsurprising. The pair was quite good at attracting attention. Always had been.

Xion, on the other hand, was much more keen to keep tabs on those about whom she knew very little. That held doubly true if they’d decided to take an interest in her closest friend -- and his partner, by extension.

“Who, the blonde?” Kai quirked her head, lifted a bare elbow to the edge of the counter. The fringed sleeve of her silver blouse glittered against the tanned skin of a freckled shoulder.

When Sora didn’t immediately respond, Kai’s expression turned sly. “Or is it the ginger who’s more to your liking?”

Another blush, and Xion was convinced the boy’s cheeks might actually start a fire, maybe burn the entire establishment down to its foundation all around them.

And here she’d been convinced its inevitable, blazing downfall would be most likely to arise at the hands of Axel.

“Pipe down.” His tone hinted at distraction, a tinge of heady nervousness. Swiveling toward the bar, Sora took a quick sip of his drink before turning back to Kai. “There’s no harm in watching to get a clue of what you’re going to be dragging me into.”

Finished with Kai’s drink, Xion nudged the sweating glass on over to her. “Cash or existing tab?”

Considering she hadn’t seen either of them before, the question was more a formality than something she thought would give either of them an actual choice. Tabs were exclusively reserved for trusted regulars.

Eyes still directed toward the dance floor, Kai took a delicate sip before responding. “Tab.”

 _Well_. That had been unanticipated. Unlike the boy, Xion knew how to keep her thoughts to herself, however.

“Which patron?”

Another sip, followed by an appreciative swallow on Kai’s end. “Riku. He said you’d know him by first name.”

Xion nodded. “I do.”

She also knew he wasn’t the type to give dolls like Kai much leverage over his abundant financial resources.

With a conspiratorial look back at her, Kai smiled as if she'd read Xion's thoughts. “He’s a darb of a guy for Sora.”

Ah. That made more sense, although Xion didn’t verbally respond to the comment or change her outward expression.

Sora, on the other hand...

“He is  _not_. He’s just a good friend.” Turning to Kai, he shot her a pointed, somewhat anguished look. “To both of us.”

Still smiling, Kai looked between her friend and Xion. “A darb who’s taken a shine to you by any other name is still a— ”

“Agh,  _geez_.”

Throwing his hands up to rub a couple knuckles into his eye sockets, expression the epitome of mortified, Xion made sure to keep her own look level in the face of Sora’s overt bashfulness.

“Better than a piker,” she offered. Besides, she thought, glancing toward the dance floor out of the corner of one eye, no one cared about people of those inclinations in a place like this anyway.

Outside of here, though, well. That was different.

“They do make a cute duo.” This time it was Kai who’d spoken, attention returning to the dancing couple, seemingly content to cease her razzing on Sora for the time being.

As Xion retrieved a small notepad and pencil from behind the counter to add the pair’s drinks to Riku’s tab, she took a moment to scrutinize the couple on the dance floor from the perspective of what an outsider might be seeing.

Axel was tall, a thick mane of hair, lurid red and slicked back, sideburns tapering off into the hint of the same distinctively colored stubble beneath a y-shaped jawline. His suit was two-piece and dark, the buckles of his suspenders reflecting off the dim lighting above him. Xion was new enough to the Organization that she hadn’t worked directly with him, just knew he had a penchant for churlish remarks that seemed to consistently set Saïx on edge. He could be a smooth talker too, Axel, and a good fighter, if Demyx hadn’t been embellishing about the nature of their last police encounter.

His dancer partner was a story of a different genre.

Keeping pace with the jazzy dance steps well enough, Axel’s second half was a much more modest height, only half a head taller than Xion herself, and boasted a flurry of golden ringlets that danced with the continuous movement of her body. Blue sequins and silver accouterments shimmered from a flapper dress that ended mid-thigh. Bare legs below her knees were well-defined, lithe.

Taking in the couple with acute scrutiny, Xion let herself come to a conclusion about how others might see the two that she was ultimately satisfied with. This was as safe as it got for people like them, she supposed.

In front of her, Kai flicked some ash off the end of her cigarette. “Now that’s a pair with some class.” She turned to Sora. “Ready to dance?”

Sora’s expression seemed to suggest he was ready to do just about anything except. That being said, Xion had to give the kid credit as she watched him take a final swig of his drink and offer Kai a brave responding nod.

As Sora slid off his stool, Kai turned back to Xion, reached into a pocket in her skirt, and passed over a few coins as tip. “He’s looking at her like she’s old-world royalty,” she said with a glance back toward Axel, expression wistful. “Some girls have all the luck.”

Without waiting for a reply, Kai led an anxious Sora away from the bar counter.

Reaching for the empty glasses, Xion finally allowed a small smile of her own to form at Kai’s parting words.

Yes, she thought. Some girls. Something like that. Sure.

* * *

They were all silly smiles and giggles on the way back to Axel’s apartment, heads fuzzy with an over-abundance of syrupy drinks, seeds of desire in the active state of blossoming.

While Axel dropped his wallet onto the small table in his home’s entry, Anna floated down the hall on nimble feet, her body undulating, shoulders moving as though they were still being encouraged by speakeasy stage music.

Axel paused, momentarily transfixed, watched as she deposited her small clutch purse on a chair in the sitting room. She turned back toward him, twisted, and he had the privilege of taking in the visual artistry of her flowing attire, the bounce of flaxen curls above attenuated shoulders. Although she eventually stilled, there was movement yet emanating from her dress. Axel looked on as Anna dropped her gaze to study it herself for a pregnant moment.

She was looking up at him an instant later, navy colored dress complementing the blue of her eyes, brows high, inviting, mouth open just slightly. Axel took a moment to savor the knowledge that the rouge in both cheeks would soon be flushed with color deriving from something more physically natural than store-bought powder.

Everything became a blur soon after.

He had her up against the sitting room wall before either had time to process his quick approach, lips searching, seeking, chests pressed together, her bare legs wrapping around his waist in tandem.

The heat came next. Throaty moans soon followed.

If pressed, Axel would never have been able to explain how they made it to the bedroom.

It hardly mattered. What did was mouths moving over one another, first closed, then coaxed open by increasing zealousness, and the taste of sticky-sweet moonshine passed between willing lips. It was her hands gripping, fisting the back of his shirttail, pulling it free from the waist of his pants, fingernails scratching a desperate pattern at the small of his back.

It was hips pressing against hips, and her shuddered breath reminding him that Anna was so much more refined in public; in the dim light of his bedroom, however, it was Roxas who elicited Axel’s most ardent desire care of the privacy a closed door afforded.

Beneath the sequins, under a silky slip and lace knickers, Roxas was waiting for him while Anna unbuttoned his trousers. It was Anna who was kissing, but Roxas whose hips rose up to meet him. Legs lowered enough for a girlish skirt to be hiked up further, Roxas lifted himself to grind against Axel again.

It was Anna who went to Organization meetings with him, who laughed at the bar and chatted with Xion, and it was Anna who the rest of the world saw and knew he was courting.

But Roxas knew the truth of Axel’s attractions, was a more genuine artifact than Anna could ever hope to be. It was Roxas who breathed life into him and Roxas who held him, breathless and trembling from fervent exertion, every night after dancing and laughing and undressing. Without fail, Roxas was the one who made Axel feel like what the outside world viewed as abnormal, as wrong, had been turned completely on its face, heart revealed, prejudices inside out and upside down, until they were nothing more tangible than curling cigarette mist floating, then dissipating, into the dim light above them.


End file.
